Dinner Theatre
by psyraven
Summary: Post-'Bail Me Out', Tony takes Ziva out for the dinner he owes her. McGee and Abby happen to be on a date at the same restaurant. Cue some seriously unabashed Tiva-watching... and some shameless McAbby.


**A/N: I didn't particularly have any intention of continuing my story 'Bail Me Out', nor did I intend to write a strongly McAbby story, but this sort of came to me with a mind of its own. It can stand alone from the previous story, but technically it takes place a few days after 'Bail Me Out'.**

**Disclaimer: Unless I somehow find NCIS down the back of my sofa, I'm guessing it doesn't belong to me.**

*** * * * * * * ***

**Dinner Theatre**

"I can't believe how fancy this place is!" exclaimed Abby Sciuto as McGee helped her out of the car outside of the upmarket French restaurant. He tried not to notice the way her short black dress revealed those long legs in sheer nylon with... he squinted slightly... tiny black skull-and-crossbones all the way up the back seam? Huh.

She pinched his arm, making him yelp, before he blushed at the knowing look she was giving him. "I w-was just..." he stammered.

"I know what you were 'just', Timothy McGee," she said, placing a single finger against his lips, before leaning closer and whispering in his ear. "I wore them especially for you."

"You did? I mean, that's... you look amazing," he finally managed to get out, cursing his inarticulacy around this woman of all women.

"Thank you, Timmy," she said, beaming at him. "I wanted to make a super-special effort, since this is our first real date in five years. Unless you count that night we got drunk on margaritas and made out in the parking lot at Fernando's, which I totally don't 'cause I don't remember most of it... except that you smelled like limes and you managed to rip my bra strap clean off. Kudos on that move, by the way."

"Um." McGee found himself lost for words again. "I, uh, didn't know you knew about that. You didn't say anything the day after at work, so I figured you didn't remember." He'd personally spent the last two years trying desperately to forget. Just as he'd been starting to think he was over her, too.

"Oh, the memory is pretty hazy, but I remember the really good bits." Her smile was pure wickedness, and McGee couldn't help but smile back. "And there were some reeeaaallly good bits," she added provocatively as they approached the maitre d'.

"Reservation for two in the name of Gemcity?" McGee asked. He heard Abby stifle a giggle at his use of the pseudonym, but it came in handy for getting in to places like this. When he'd asked Tony for a recommendation, the older agent had scoffed at his chances of securing a reservation at the hottest new restaurant in town on such short notice. Part of him wished Tony could see him now, then he thought of the incessant teasing he'd get for taking Abby out on a date and figured he was better off not knowing.

The maitre d' checked the book in front of him and smiled. "Of course, Monsieur Gemcity. We have the perfect table for you, if you would follow me, s'il vous plait?"

The table they were led to was indeed perfect, tucked away in a quiet corner, shielded from most of the rest of the restaurant by velvet drapes. Combined with the ambient lighting, it gave the illusion of complete privacy, something Abby took immediate advantage of by scooting her chair round closer to his and pulling him in to a soft, sensual kiss. McGee blinked at her as she pulled away.

"What was that for?"

She gave a one-shouldered shrug that fit right in with the Gallic atmosphere. "In case I forget to thank you later for such a beautiful evening." She smiled at him. "I had a wonderful time. You were very witty and charming."

"I was?" He couldn't stop the smirk that spread across his face. "That's good to know."

Abby rolled her eyes at him and then glanced around the restaurant to take in their surroundings. She grabbed his arm. Hard. "Oh my God! McGee! Look, look, look!"

"At what? Ouch." He tried to extract himself from her vice-like grip.

"The other side of the restaurant! Over by the window!" She was practically dancing in her seat by this point. "It's Tony and Ziva! This is soooo cool!"

"It won't be if you keep squealing like that and they hear us!" He looked over to where she was pointing, dragging her hand down before she drew any unwanted attention their way.

"Oh my God, are they here on a date, too? How long have they been dating?! Did you know about this?" she turned on McGee with an accusing glare.

"What? No! I don't know anything. I don't _want _to know anything. It's bad enough with the touching, and the staring, and the inappropriate topics of conversation. The last thing I need is to know what they get up to with each other out of the office." McGee deliberately tried to look anywhere but at the couple leaning close to each other at the other table, Tony reaching out to take Ziva's hand and then pressing a kiss into her palm. Abby kept making happy little squeaking noises.

"Oooh," she suddenly gasped, leaning closer and whispering into his ear, making his whole right-hand side tingle. "They're playing footsie..."

"The Stock Exchange?"

Abby turned to him with an incredulous look. "Yes, McGee, they're playing the Stock Exchange over dinner." She gave him a gentle Gibbs-slap to the back of the head, which actually helped with the whole distraction thing. "Try looking _under _the table, Timmy." She looked pointedly over to where Tony and Ziva sat, oblivious to their attentive audience. McGee did as instructed and noticed absently that Ziva's purple dress was nearly as short as Abby's black one. Her smooth, tanned legs were stretched out and she had kicked off her strappy pumps to... oh my God, she was running one of her feet up the inside of Tony's leg! McGee shut his eyes. There were some things you just didn't need to see – it was like watching his parents making out or something. How was he going to face them across the bullpen when he had that image seared into his brain?

Beside him, Abby was sighing happily. "I always knew they were perfect for each other, you know. All that pent-up sexual tension leaking out all over the place, him tugging her hair, her brushing up against him all the time. Just being around the two of them used to get me so worked up, I'd be tempted to just... grab you and drag you into the stairwell for a quickie."

"What stopped you?" McGee said, without thinking.

"I wasn't sure how you'd react," she said, running her fingers up his arm. "Of course, I can see now that you'd be totally... up for it." McGee swallowed. She hadn't really meant it that way, had she? Her wandering fingers wandered southwards and he gulped again. Oh. Yes, she had.

Dinner was an exercise in distraction, in the end. Afterwards, he couldn't have said what they ate (other than that it tasted particularly good when eaten off each other's plates, or from each other's fingers). By the time he settled the bill, barely blinking at the exorbitant total, he was sure the waiters must be able to see the steam coming out of his ears. Abby had kept up a running commentary on what their co-workers were up to, but since it seemed to give her some very creative ideas of her own, he wasn't complaining too much. As it was, he was barely able to control himself until they got to the car, let alone Abby's place.

*** * * * * * * ***

"They gone?" Tony whispered to Ziva, trying not to notice that her foot was now pressed firmly into his groin. She wiggled her toes and he groaned helplessly. "Don't start something you aren't willing to finish, Zee-Vah."

His partner glanced up at him from under her lashes, a sly smile on her lips. "I always follow through, Tony. You know that. And, yes, they are gone."

"Finally! Still, we gave 'em a hell of a show, didn't we?" He reached out to spoon up the last bite of dessert, savouring the creamy taste as it melted in his mouth. Only one thing he knew of that tasted better than Etienne's cheesecake... and best he didn't continue that thought in a crowded restaurant.

"We certainly appear to have made Abby's night. And now, I think she is about to make McGee's..." Ziva chuckled.

"Ah, our little Probie, all grown up and getting laid. It's enough to make you proud." Tony lifted his glass in a mock toast. "Maybe I should have given him some tips?"

Ziva shook her head. "I am sure he will manage just fine without your... help. After all, it is not as if they have not had sex with each other before."

"That's true," mused Tony thoughtfully. "I always forget about the Coffin Sex Incident of 2004. McGee was picking splinters out of his ass for weeks. Kate and I gave him hell for that one..." He took a long swig of red wine. "Ah, good times."

"I wish I could have met her," Ziva said quietly.

"You'd have got on well, I think. Too well for my peace of mind." He narrowed his eyes. "I have a horrible feeling the two of you would have ganged up on me all the time." He adopted a more falsetto tone. "'Tony, you smell'; 'Tony, you snore'; 'Tony, stop breathing so loud, you're distracting me'."

"Aww, my poor Tony." There was that foot again, rubbing against areas that didn't exactly need any further encouragement. "We tease because we love."

His eyes locked on hers. There it was, the 'l' word, the one they were both so careful not to throw around. He took another mouthful of wine, his eyes never leaving hers. The pause seemed to lengthen, hanging heavy in the air.

"Likewise," he said eventually, and she smiled.


End file.
